Fall to Pieces
by Scarlet Rose Bloom
Summary: What if Tobias had killed Spencer? AU. Anonymous prompt for my JJ account. Trigger Warnings: Drug Abuse, Death, and Overdose.


What if Tobias had killed Spencer?

They split up. It was a mistake. JJ knew deep her in gut it was a mistake. From the very second he suggested it and took off she knew. She knew, she knew, she knew. She said nothing. They were both agents but he was the profiler, she was just a liaison. If he thought it was a good idea, the best idea, to split up who was she to argue? Yes, it was against protocol. Yes, they were typically instructed to wait for back up. Nevertheless, he persisted reminding her that the team would be looking for them soon. Reminding her how there wasn't time to wait, they had to act before he got away. She trusted and to listened to him, ignoring the feeling deep in her gut. Not that he gave her much of an option, after merely suggesting it he took off towards the fields. She tried to remind herself of this, tried to somehow justify their actions but it didn't work. There was nothing justifiable about his death. Due to her mistake, they were now looking at his dead body. Not his mistake, not their mistake, but _her _mistake. Spencer Reid was dead. It was all her fault. There was no one else to blame. It was her fault, there was no way around it. JJ already knew this. Hell, she'd discussed it with Morgan.

"You think Reid and I should've stayed together in the barn, don't you?" She challenged him.

"JJ, go get some rest." Derek instructs not wanting to deal with whatever was going on.

"I can tell that's what you're thinking, so..." JJ instigated.

"I just want to get Reid home and safe," Derek replied trying to get her to focus again.

"But if I had his back...li-like I was supposed to...he'd be here now." JJ points out.

"JJ, what do you want from me?" Derek finally relents.

"I just-I want _someone _to tell me the truth." JJ admits. Why can't someone tell her when they all know it?

"The truth is, one of you is here and one of you isn't. You gotta figure the rest out for yourself." Derek comments before leaving the room.

It didn't matter that he wouldn't come out and say it. She heard his comment loud and clear. She needed to "figure the rest out," and she already had. He only confirmed it. It was her fault Reid was dead. Everyone knew it. Everyone blamed her for it. They all saw the videos. They watched as Tobias, er technically his father, threw Reid to the floor and his gasps filled the air. He was nearly dead right there but then Tobias revived him. When he's given the chance to chose one of them to die, JJ's sure it's going to be her. She deserves it after all, she's the one who got him into that mess. She should be there not him. But when he speaks he says Hotch's name and JJ can barely contain her shock. Why Hotch? Why not her? Hotch has done nothing wrong. It's moments after Hotch's been chosen and they're putting the pieces together. He's giving them hints to save him. He doesn't want her there he just wants to make it out alive. For the first time since they've split up JJ feels hope fill her. They can save him.

But they arrive too late. The bodies are still warm but they're still too late. Gunshot wounds pierce both of their chests. The entire area smells of must, leaves, mud, and now blood. The darkness of the night seems darker to JJ. They've lost a friend. A colleague. A family member. A light.

JJ drops to her knees beside him, tears spill over while they pool in the eyes of her teammates. "Spencer...Spence," she cries softly at first. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she murmurs stroking his hair. "This should've been me not you," she whispered into his hairline. Her fingers thread in the head of hair she used to love to mess up so much. The tears keep streaming and her body starts to shake. "Spence, please. Please, no. Don't leave me. Don't leave us. I'm sorry! Spence, Spence, Spence!" She echoes his name over and over. He can't be gone. He's Reid he can't just be gone. They need him. How could this have happened? How could she let it happen? "Let me switch places with him, let me switch places!" She screams up to the sky before collapsing on top of him. It's a heartbreaking scene to witness and none of her teammates are quite sure what to do so they look away with tear filled eyes wishing this was some sort of bad dream. Anything but reality. Except it is. Their friend is dead, never coming back.

As her tears dry up and she gets the nudge from Hotch, JJ lifts herself up. "I'm sorry," she says one last time kissing his forehead. She trails her fingers over his eyelids before making them close. There's nothing for him to see anymore anyway. Before Hotch can come over again, she notices something in his pocket. Gingerly taking it between her fingers, she realizes it's a vial. Dilaudid, the label reads. JJ slips it into her pocket with one hand as she stands up and wipes her tears with the other. Hotch's supporting arm wraps around her slowly leading her away from the scene. They turn back a few times to look as the medics gather up the bodies. It's a surreal scene to experience. To watch one of your own be placed into a body bag. It's just not right.

"He was forcing him to dig his own grave," Derek's low voice speaks to Gideon and Prentiss.

"He got a shot on him though," Gideon points out.

"Yeah and he got shot in the process as well," Derek reminds him. His best friend is dead and he needs someone to blame.

Hotch squeezes JJ's shoulder. She's in a fragile state of mind. She was attacked and could have easily been in Reid's position. No doubt those type of thoughts are running through her mind and it's not hard to figure out she's blaming herself. Telling her it's not her fault won't do anything but he's not about to expose her to Morgan's anger. Not that Morgan would blame her necessarily but he is mad. It's not a risk Hotch wants to take. He squeezes her shoulder again, slowing them down a tad and allowing the others to get ahead. She's crying into his shoulder still but her tears are mostly gone. He looks down at her with sad eyes, speechless. There are no words of comfort for this.

"Hotch," JJ's voice sounds horse moments later. "Can I...can I have a moment alone?" She requests. Inside her coat pocket her fingers are tracing over the vial.

"Sure," Hotch gives his simple reply and makes his stride larger taking only a few steps to give her some time alone. He's not too far away but far enough.

JJ turns around and looks down. To anyone else she's simply looking at the ground trying to deal with her grief. In reality she's holding the vial from Reid's pocket. This had to be what Tobias was giving him and somewhere along the way Reid snagged a vial for himself. A lump forms in JJ's throat at the realization of that indicates. He was addicted in that short time frame. Had he made it out alive he would still carry a constant reminder. He would have been alive but not unscarred. Not by any means. This was what Reid was on when he died. This was his refuge, his only escape. What she could have easily been on. He was so much stronger than her. If he was on this she would've been too. Probably should be. She grips it tightly and bits her lip. Before she can do, say, or think anything else, Hotch returns to her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Let's go," he says softly and she nods. She allows him to lead her up the slope to the car. Lets him open the door and help her with her seatbelt. She's gone numb now. The car ride is silent as is the plane ride home. They're all hollow inside.

It's two days later and they're having Spencer's funeral. The words, the phase, all of them seem wrong to JJ. Spencer can't be dead. She still can't grasp it. Part of her still hopes he'll waltz through the door once more and things would be normal. Even if he hated her she'd take that over him being dead. She dresses in a simple black dress with black heels and her hair tied into a bun. Prentiss wears a similar dress and heels with her hair in a ponytail. Garcia too wears a dress with black heels and hair tied back. The only difference is she has a black hat to go with it as well. All the men wear their black suits and ties with black shirts underneath and black shoes. Black fits their moods. There is no doubt they are all in mourning.

Rossi, Hotch, Morgan, Anderson, Kevin, and another agent carry the coffin. The women trail behind tears already staining their faces. Mrs. Reid was flown in and somehow his father found out and was there too. They're sitting together, holding hands tightly. Not even her hatred for flying could keep Diana Reid away. Even if he never showed it, William Reid is proud of his son. He always kept tabs on him, proud of his accomplishments in the FBI. He knew it was a risky job. Diana always hated it, never trusted the government. Now she hates them even more. They got her boy killed. William still respects it but not as much as he used to.

Everyone from the team gets a chance to say a few words. About how wonderful a teammate he is, how smart he is, how they're going to be lost without him. How sorry they are to lose him how they'd do anything to get him back. How they know how hard he tried to survive. They're all different but the core of the message is the same. They love him, they'll miss him. He was like family. Finally it's JJ's turn.

"I don't really know how to do this," she begins. "I can hardly believe he's gone. Like everyone else has said, he was the genius of the team. A fun guy to be around. To me, he was like a little brother. Someone I cared about dearly and it doesn't seem right, or real, that he's gone. Not long ago we were teasing each other, fooling around and making plans for the weekend or whenever we had off next. Now he's just gone," she spoke slowly and clearly. "I don't know how not only how this team will function but also how I will. How I'll survive without one of my best friends, my little brother. The amount of sorrow and grief I feel at losing Spencer is immense. Worse than anything I've ever experienced. I know my teammates feel it and Spencer's parents as well. Maybe, hopefully, we can help each other through it like Spencer would want. Still I know we'd all much rather have him here. I already miss you so much Spence." She ended her speech there as emotion overwhelmed her and she choked on her words. With a helping hand from Hotch she was guided off the platform and back to her seat between Prentiss and Garcia who quickly hugged her from each side.

At the reception the BAU sits together but there's minimal conversation and JJ can't help but feel like it's because she's there. If she weren't they would be able to talk freely but because she is they have to be careful and watch their words, afraid of hurting her feelings somehow. Gradually, they excuse themselves from the table and converse with other people or each other. Their actions only confirm JJ's suspicions. She can't get herself to move though and she sits in her seat, looking down at her folded hands. She can't eat and she's really not up for socializing. She's oblivious to the person seated next to her.

"You're JJ right?" The woman asks, her hands shaking slightly.

Jumping at the noise, JJ looks at the woman and is shocked to find Diana Reid next to her. "Y-Yes, that's me," she stutters. "I'm so sorry about your son Mrs. Reid." JJ says it sincerely and vaguely wonders if she knows she's the reason her son is dead.

"Spencer spoke a lot about you," Diana smiles and points at her. "Pretty, petite little blonde so friendly and bubbly. Said you worked with the press and were good friends with him. Said you called him Spence," Diana rattled off.

"He said that about me?" JJ's a bit stunned. He talked about her to his mother?

"Yes he did. Talked about everyone but he talked about you the most," she smiles again.

"Oh...wow," JJ cracks the tiniest smile. The tender moments lasts seconds before it's shattered.

"I heard you were the last one with him before you split up?" Diana inquires. Her voice isn't as nice, warm, and friendly as it had been seconds ago. It's as if a switch has gone off.

JJ's smile quickly fades into a frown. A deep frown. "I was," she says evenly with downcast eyes.

"So you could have been the one kidnapped, tortured, and killed instead of my son?" Diana asks her words covered with venom.

"Y-yes," JJ chokes out shifting uncomfortably.

"And yet here you are," Diana gestures towards her. "Alive and well unscathed.

My son's dead and you couldn't give a damn you just care that you're alive. Did you trick him into going after the unsub? Set it up so he'd be the one taken while you hid and protected yourself? Hm?"

"N-n-no that's not true. That's not true at all," JJ shook her head and tried to explain.

"Oh cut the lies! My son is dead and it's all your fault!" Diana screamed standing up and looming over JJ. Everyone turned to look at them and before it could get any worse, Derek, Gideon, and William were all escorting Diana away from JJ while Hotch lead JJ out of the room.

She made it only a few steps before her knees gave out and she collapsed, sliding down the wall. Tears formed and spilled from her eyes again as she placed her head in her hands. "She's right you know," she says to Hotch.

"No she's not," he insists rubbing his thumbs under her eyes to brush her tears away. "She's a grieving schizophrenic. She was bound to take it out on someone. I specifically informed everyone not to give her any information about the case especially how he died or who was the last person with him. I knew this could happen and I was trying to prevent that." He grimaced slightly knowing he failed in doing so.

"Thank you," she smiles up at him slightly, her hand wrapping around his wrist. "Thank you for doing this and trying to protect me." She squeezed.

"You're welcome," he says softly and sincerely. "Do you think you're going to be okay?" He asks lifting her to a standing position.

With one more swipe under her eyes she nods. "Yeah, I'll be okay." He gives her a concerned gaze wanting to make sure she's telling the truth. "I'm positive Hotch. I'll be fine." With this reassurance he nods, slowly leaving her as he rejoins the reception. "I'll be fine," she repeats to herself quietly before following after him.

It's three days later and JJ is not fine, she's anything but fine. The night of Spencer's funeral she didn't even try to sleep-she couldn't. She was wound up to tight to sleep and her mind wasn't about to rest. The next day they had off given the circumstances. Sometime during the middle of the day she passed out asleep but awoke not long later from a nightmare. The rest of the day was spent trying to sleep and fight off the nightmares. The night was the same battle. By the next morning, not only has she not slept properly in at least a day but the memories are plaguing her mind. She can't stop reliving the experience, wishing each time that she could do something to change the outcome. She can't tell what's real, what's memory, and what's a nightmare anymore. They're all the same.

In one nightmare, she's in the shed with Reid. He's yelling, screaming at her about how it's her fault. About how much he hates her and wishes she was the one in this position. He blames her for letting this happen and all she can do is cry and apologize. It's not good enough, he screams at her. In another nightmare, he's begging for his life. Begging for her to save him. He's crying, asking her why she isn't doing anything to help and she sits there crying saying she can't. He doesn't understand and keeps begging, screaming her name. In the dream she clamps her hands over her ears and tries to drown him out as she rocks back and forth. In real life she thrashes in her sleep and screams. She wakes up sweating and breathing heavy each time, no matter what version of the dream it is. In her conscious state she sits huddled in a ball reliving the event over and over. Then she remembers finding him and the little "gift" in his pocket. Staggering out of bed, she goes to her closet and finds the coat she found him in. It still smells of the retched place even though she's washed it three times already. Nimble fingers retrieve the vial. She makes a quick stop at a store, purchasing some needles. So goes to a place where she's no known and won't be judged for her purchase.

Tense fingers hold a loaded needle as she sits cross-legged on her bed. Once again she's crying. Crying because she's too weak to go on without this and crying because she's too cowardly to take it. Yet she's crying because she's too weak to inject herself with it. "Just do it," her mind screams at her and her hand jabs the syringe into her arm. She gasps first at the pain and then at the pleasure that fills her. Everything starts to slip away. All her pain and nightmares fade to the background. Darkness covers her eyes until she's drifted to sleep. A much needed sleep at that.

She stays knocked out for a day or two, awaking only when her alarm for work Monday goes off and she groans. She has a raging headache and the room spins a bit. For a few seconds she can't recall the recent events but slowly she pieces it together. She's been asleep for a while and Reid's...he's dead. She looks down at the vial and syringe resting near her. Grabbing them, she sticks them in her pocket as she gets ready for work. She tells herself she's only carrying them as a reassurance. To mentally tell herself it's there if she needs it but she has no intentions of using at work. That's what she tells herself at least.

It's about a week later when she can't take it. Everyone's still trying to distract themselves and they're distancing themselves from her. She's triggered and craving. So bad that her hands are shaking and her mind's in a fog. She can't focus. She needs another fix. "Just a tiny one," she tells herself grabbing her purse and slipping into a bathroom stall. She rolls up her sleeve, her arm is already covered in tracking marks, and injects a quick dose. The buzz comes immediately and she sighs in relief. Just enough until she gets home. Just enough.

Soon she finds herself needing to slip into the bathroom more than usual. She can't wait until she gets home and constantly needs her "enough until I get home," fix. Day by day the doses increase including the amount she takes at work. It shifts from one hit at work to two and before long it's three or four. As much as she can get in a day. The effects are wearing off faster and the doses are getting higher. She barely eats anymore and she's even tinier than before. It's unhealthy and noticeable. So are her yellowing nails and skin tone. She looks sick, not like the JJ they all know and love. Her work is slacking as well and her hand writing is barely legible. Questions are rising about her and her well being but no one knows how to go about it.

One night, Hotch decides to confront her. It's late, they should both be home but he notoriously stays late. When he hears JJ leaving he turns off his light and watches her, wanting her to think she's alone. Her behavior's drastically different, with the team or alone, but she always seems happy. sometimes preoccupied but generally happy. Or some facade of it. Tonight is different though, tonight he's going to march into her office and demand to know what's wrong. His gut and suspicions suspect Reid's death to be a factor.

He barely knocks on the door as he enters. "JJ we need to talk. The teams worried and frankly so am I and-" he says all of this before he comprehends the scene before him. JJ's sitting at her desk, wide-eyed with her sleeve rolled up and needle in her arm. The vial of Dilaudid sits on her desk in plain sight.

"Hotch," JJ hates how her voice cracks. There's nothing she can say. She's caught and it looks exactly as it is.

"JJ," he speaks her name brokenly and sits down after closing the door. No one else needs to see this even if they are the only two supposedly there. "JJ what's going on?" He asks giving her a chance to give her story.

She finishes the injected, gasping as she pulls it out. "I can explain," she mumbles. Her head feels heavy but she has to focus.

"Please do," he encourages. All he wants to do is snatch the vial and needle away from her, scoop her up, and check her into rehab. "How long as this been going on?"

"A couple of months," JJ shifts awkwardly. She may as well tell the truth.

"Right around when Reid died," he states.

"Y-yeah. Three days after his funeral actually." She bits on her lip and looks down.

"JJ, you said you were going to be okay. Said you were fine," Hotch's voice sounds so broken. He should've checked up on her and made sure she was okay.

"I know, I know I did but then I wasn't sleeping and the nightmares came and I couldn't deal with it. I didn't know what to do." She starts fidgeting with her hands. She doesn't want to have this conversation.

"Why did't you tell me?" Hotch asks reaching his hand out to steady hers.

"I couldn't do that Hotch," she shakes her head and looks at their hands. "The whole team was grieving. It was my fault he died anyway and I-"

"It was not your fault. I told you it wasn't and you told me you knew that," he cuts her off. "Do you think Spencer would want this for you?"

"He was on it too!" She screams earning a confused but interested look from Hotch. "I mean...he...when we found him and I...I...I noticed something in his pocket. It was the Dilaudid," she nodded towards the vial, "And I took it."

"Why? Why did you take it?" He grips her hands a little harder.

"I kept thinking how he was on it and how that could've and should've been me and how he's so much stronger than me and..." she sighs. "I needed it. Not then but I knew I would." And she was right, she did.

"JJ," it's Hotch's turn to sigh. "What are we going to do about this?" He's supposed to report her, have her suspended, and put in rehab but he can't do that to her. He wants her to get better and stay with the team. They can't lose another member.

JJ snaps her head up. He's not going to turn her in? He's giving her a chance? That's all she needs. "I want to get better," she says quickly. "I'll stop. I will. I'll go to rehab," she insists.

"Tomorrow," he agrees after a moment of contemplation. "Don't come to work tomorrow. Instead get yourself enrolled in some rehab. A program of some sorts. One that allows you to still go to work," he needs to see her and make sure she's doing better. "I want you to give them my information as well so I can make sure." He trusts her but this is serious.

JJ knows how serious it is and agrees to his conditions. "I can do that. I will do it, tomorrow."

"One more thing," he says slowly the gestures with his head toward the vial and needle. "Hand it over."

JJ looks crestfallen. "Hotch," she pleads.

"No, JJ," he says sternly. "If you're going to stop it you might as well get a jump on it." Reluctantly JJ hands over the vial and syringe, knowing she has more at home. "Thank you." There's an awkward moment between them. "Are you capable of getting home?"

"Yeah," she nods slowly. "I can get home, don't worry."

"At least let me drive behind you then." He insists and she raises no objections. Wordlessly, they gather their things and head out to their cars. He drives behind her and pulls in behind her when they reach her house. He helps her with her keys and get inside. Once she's settle, he lets himself out. It's the first night since she's started that she hasn't taken a hit before bed. Technically she got one from work but still.

In the morning she regrets it. Her body aches more than normal, and her mouth is dry. After getting sick JJ doesn't even try to fight it. She stumbles to her room, pulling open the draw holding her stash. She loads up and injects it quickly, immediately feeling relief and guilt. She told, no promised, Hotch she'd get thought in mind she drives to a center and enrolls herself in rehab. They take hers and Hotch's information. Her first class is that night.

The next few days are work are brutal. It's easy for Hotch to tell if and how many times she's injected. The happier she is the more she's been using but the more miserable she is the less she's using. He wants her to stop but seeing her that down is upsetting and painful. It's part of the process, he tells himself. The teammates notice too and ask him about it. He shrugs it off saying he's not sure what's going on. It's a lie but he's not about to rat JJ out to anyone, not even her own teammates.

Not long after she's started rehab, JJ's sliding down the slopes again. She's missing sessions and appointments. At first she just missed, didn't use when she did but then she started using whenever she skipped. Soon she was missing completely and back to her addiction. It was even worse than before with JJ feeling more and more desperate. Her escape wasn't working anymore and she was panicked.

She missed three days of work without calling in. Hotch assumed she was checked in for a few days. He avoided the topic with the team, particularly one observant Morgan. On the fourth day, however, he couldn't avoid him.

"Hotch, look if you know what's going on with JJ, fine. Just say the word and I won't ask for more but I gotta say it's been four days now and no JJ. She's never missed this much before." Derek said sitting inside Hotch's office. He made it a point to come in when he knew Hotch wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

"You're right," Hotch agreed with a nod. Still he hoped his assumptions were right. He gave Morgan a look before sighing. "I'll look into it."

At their lunch hour, Hotch took off deciding this wasn't something that could wait. He drove to the rehab center hoping to find JJ there. "Excuse me," he asked on of the staff members. "Is Jennifer Jareau here?" When the employee gave him an unsure look he quickly explained. "She was a patient here and I should be listed as one of her contacts." Looking up the information the employee found he was telling the truth.

"Oh, Ms. Jareau," the employee said sadly. "She seemed to be doing really well. Was coming to the meetings and everything. She started missing a few and she hasn't been in for about two weeks now."

Hotch looked at the man in shock. "Why wasn't I notified? I was supposed to be if she missed too many."

"We have a lot of patients here. Some, sadly, slip through the cracks even if they have a contact. It was probably assumed she was with you and or at another center. I'm sorry," the employee handed over her file before returning to work.

Worried now, Hotch drove to JJ's house. Thankfully the door was unlocked, making his entrance easier. "JJ!" He called as he entered. "JJ it's me, Hotch. JJ where are you?" He walked through the downstairs looking for her hoping she was just asleep and not what he feared. As he walked up the steps he felt his heart drop at each footstep. Something was wrong, he knew it. "JJ," he called once more as he reached the top. He went straight to her bedroom and inwardly cringed at the sight before him.

JJ was lying on the floor sprawled out and barely breathing. She was dressed in a tank top, for easier access, and shorts with a thin sheet covering part of her body. A fresh, and now empty, vial of Dilaudid was empty besides JJ's hand where a syringe also laid. Her arms were covered in track marks and it looked as if she had bruises all over her body.

"JJ!" Hotch rushed to her side, pushing the needle and vial out of his way and holding her head in his lap. "JJ what happened," he whispered reaching forward to feel the pulse in her wrist. It was faint but still there. Shifting her body and himself, he pulled out his cell phone from his back pocket.

"9-1-1 what's your emergency?" The operator asked.

"This is Section Chief Aaron Hotchner of the FBI's BAU unit. I have Agent Jennifer Jareau with an attempted drug overdose on Dilaudid. Fading pulse."

"Help is on the way agent," the operator responded.

Hearing that was all he needed as he hung up. In his gut he knew it was too late, knew no one could do anything else for except be there for her and comfort her. "Did you hear that? Helps' coming. Just hold on until they get here JJ."

"No," she said weakly. "No. I needed an escape Hotch. I finally found it," a small smile formed upon her lips.

"Don't say that JJ. You're going to get through this. You were doing so well." He tried to prevent this. Tried to be the person she could go to so this would never happen. "You can do it again. I know you can, you're strong enough."

"No. I'm not." Her voice was still weak. "I never was the strong one." She coughed, and cringed in pain. "I'm sorry," she apologized weakly and quietly. Her hand found it's way to his, which was cradling her face. Her fingers wrapped around his. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

Hotch held her, trying not to cry but allowing the tears to form. He let go of her only when the EMs came in. They pronounced her dead minutes later after trying to revive her. JJ was placed into a body bag, zipped up, and loaded into the ambulance to take her to the morgue. Hotch arranged it so he would pick up her body and handle the funeral services.

Two hours later he returned with a glum face to his concerned teammates. Derek had a guess about what was going on from the second Hotch left and upon his return the pieces were quickly coming together. Everyone else was worried and confused and wanting to know what was going on.

"Everyone to the conference room," Hotch instructed. He didn't want to break it to them out in the bullpen where everyone else could hear.

Derek lingered back a moment wanting a second with Hotch alone. "Is everything okay? Is this about-" He began asking.

Hotch held up his hand and gave one firm nod. "I'll tell you more in the conference room. This isn't something I want to repeat."

Understanding, Derek complied to his wishes and headed up to the conference room. Hotch took a moment to himself to take a few breaths before facing his team. They were still grieving Reid's death and now they would have another agent to mourn.

"As you all know, JJ hasn't been here for three days." He gave them all solemn looks as they all tensed. They didn't like where this was going. "The reason I assumed she wasn't in trouble was because I knew of her problem. A few weeks ago I went to confront JJ about her behavior and discovered she was addicted to Dilaudid, the same substance Tobias used on Reid. She got it from Reid's pocket the night we found him. She had been using for approximately two months when I found out. I made her deal, that she got herself into rehab and listed me as a contact. I was keeping an eye her even though I should've turned her in. When she didn't show up, I assumed she had checked into the center for a few days. When Derek began expressing concern, I decided I'd check there to see if she was there. Upon my arrival I was informed she had been missing meetings and sessions alike and for two weeks now had been gone from the program. I was never contacted about her missing the sessions. Once I discovered this I went to her apartment." Here he paused and gauged their reactions. Everyone looked hurt and stunned but they gave slight nods. They needed to hear the rest. "She was barely conscious when I arrived. I was there for her last moments. The medics tried to revive her but soon pronounced her dead. She overdosed, took at least one entire vial if not more. I'll be handling her funeral arrangements and the funeral will be Friday." By the time he finished everyone in the room was either crying or had tears in their eyes, including himself. First Reid, now JJ. Their family was falling apart.


End file.
